


brighter than ever

by annejumps



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Apologies, Canon Disabled Character, Charles in a Wheelchair, Erik Has Feelings, Hank is Protective, M/M, Poor Charles, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 21:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4236717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annejumps/pseuds/annejumps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles hasn't seen Erik since Erik broke up with him and left with no explanation -- ten years ago.</p>
            </blockquote>





	brighter than ever

Charles sighed. Naturally the book he wanted was on the top shelf. He’d been using a wheelchair for ten years now and was used to this sort of thing, but with the morning he was having, the inconvenience felt almost personal. Well, this was part of why he had Hank.

He could sense Hank nearby, and in fact expected him to come around the corner. Instead, the tall man turning into the aisle where Charles waited was the last person he’d expected to see.

“Erik,” Charles blurted out, hands tightening involuntarily on his chair.

Erik stopped short, looking astonished, then puzzled, then concerned, in quick succession. “Charles. What’s happened to you?”

Charles forced out a breath. “What’s ‘happened’ to me is that I was in a car accident. Not that you would know, because you dropped off the face of the Earth ten years ago.”

Erik still hadn’t moved. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Obviously not. What exactly are you sorry for?” Charles returned. “Dropping off the face of the Earth, or my... tragic situation?” He hadn’t realized he was still this angry at Erik. Over the years he no longer cared much about pity from others, but the idea of Erik pitying his state rankled him a surprising amount.

“Both, I suppose,” Erik shrugged, looking helpless. “Everything.” He looked suddenly drawn, Charles realized, his usually impassive expression more wide-eyed now, taking Charles in with barely suppressed astonishment, but, Charles noticed, not paying much attention to the chair -- just looking at Charles, himself.

“Everything. After ten years of nothing you can just… apologize for everything.” Charles’ small laugh was bitter.

“Can’t you tell I mean it?” Almost imperceptibly, Erik’s expression became pleading, brow raised, eyes wider.

“Erik.” Charles wheeled himself closer, and said in a very low voice, “I don’t know what you’re thinking, because I’m not inside your head, and I never will be again.”

Erik looked stricken. He said nothing further. Just then, Hank did in fact come around the corner, carrying a stack of books and looking harried, as usual. He went around Erik to Charles, looking nonplussed. “Here are the ones I found--”

“Thank you, Hank.” Charles pointedly wheeled himself back from Erik and turned slightly away, examining the books Hank held out to him for approval. “We’ll get these, and if you would please get that bright green one on the top shelf.”

“Of course.” Hank retrieved the book and added it to his pile.

Charles caught it when Erik’s brow shot up. Oh, Charles wasn’t above enjoying Erik being even the slightest bit jealous, even if he had absolutely no interest of that sort in Hank and the feeling was mutual -- Hank was his TA. 

Hank bundled the books onto one arm and with his free hand pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, stepping closer to Charles as if to insert himself between Erik and Charles in case Erik posed some sort of threat. He was taller than Erik, and Erik drew himself up even straighter, looking levelly and coolly at Hank, who, Charles could tell, was verging on agitation, even though he didn’t fully understand the situation. Charles felt a small rush of fondness for Hank.

“Hank, please. Let’s go,” Charles said, calm. Hank stayed where he was for a few more beats before nodding, turning to accompany Charles to the front desk.

They were at the end of the aisle when Erik called to him. “Charles.”

Charles paused, and half-turned his head, to hear what Erik had to say without looking at him.

“It was good to see you.”

Charles huffed out a laugh and raised a hand in both acknowledgement and dismissal, and carried on wheeling himself to the front desk, Hank waiting just slightly ahead. 

“Who was that?” Hank asked quietly.

Charles sighed. “My ex-boyfriend.”

As Hank passed the books to the clerk, Charles allowed himself to brood. Erik looked even better than he had ten years before, and ten years ago he’d been stunning. His hair was shorter and more casual, he was stubbled, and greater maturity on his face suited him. He still seemed to have a predilection for black leather jackets, damn him.

Why was he here?

\-------

Erik wandered through the aisles some more and left without getting anything, and wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for or to curse the impulse that had taken him inside the university corner bookstore on his downtown wanderings. 

Charles! He’d seen Charles, of all people. 

His being in a wheelchair only concerned Erik insofar as he hoped Charles wasn’t in pain or discomfort, and that whatever suffering he’d experienced had been minimal. He was clearly able to handle himself, and he had that -- boy -- to help him. It was a well-made chair, Erik could tell, so there was that. 

Charles had almost looked like he hadn’t aged a day, but for the gray streaked through his thick, soft brown hair. Erik thought of the many times he’d combed his fingers through that hair a decade ago and clenched his fists, willing his mind to think of something else. 

Back at his new flat, he opened his laptop and looked for more information on Charles. He’d assumed Charles had forgotten about him years ago, that Erik had been a blip, a mistake, on the trajectory that would be his brilliant life. He hadn’t thought breaking up with him in order to tie up the loose ends of his life would bother Charles much, all things considered, but judging from the anger he’d witnessed that morning, he’d been very wrong.

Erik’s searching told him that Charles was a professor of genetics at the university whose campus Erik had wandered onto after he’d gotten some coffee in his new city. Erik started his new job in two days, and had time on his hands. It had been a beautiful day for a walk. 

Now, Erik sat at his desk and stared out at the skyline.

He pulled up his email and started to type.

\-------

Charles sat staring at Erik’s email, reading it over several times until Hank noticed he was being quiet, and came over. “Professor?”

“Nothing. My… my ex-boyfriend sent me an email.”

Hank frowned, taking on an air of protectiveness like that of a guard dog. 

“It’s fine, Hank. He doesn’t present a threat, nothing like that. He just….” Charles laughed softly, and rested his chin in his hand, reading over Erik’s closing -- _yours, erik_ \-- again. “He just broke my heart.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hank said, sincere as ever. Hank held Charles in high esteem, which Charles of course found flattering -- Hank was loyal and intelligent. 

“It was ten years ago,” Charles said, and sat back.

“Sure, but if it still bothers you, it still bothers you.”

“True enough.” Charles sighed again. “He wants to meet for dinner tonight.”

“Tonight?” Hank said, surprised. 

“Yes, suddenly he’s in a hurry after saying nothing to me for ten years.” Charles’ laugh was hollow.

“Are you going to go?”

Charles was surprised to find he barely had to consider it. “Yes, Hank, I think I will.”

\-------

Erik had made sure to pick an accessible restaurant that had food he knew Charles liked. He’d waited on tenterhooks for Charles’ answer, half expecting a screed, or worse, cold silence. It had been a welcome surprise to receive a simple acceptance. 

He waited on a bench outside the restaurant, trying to calm his mind, wondering if Charles had been toying with him by responding with a yes while intending to stand him up, to get a little bit of revenge by making Erik feel foolish.

He looked up to see a van pulling up along the sidewalk in front of him. That boy was driving, and Erik stood, heart hammering, to attempt to be of help. But the boy ignored him, and it seemed he and Charles had a system worked out, so Erik hovered, feeling useless, unwilling to use his power without being asked, although he could easily imagine making things easier for Charles by lifting the chair out himself, even lifting Charles into it. 

Charles bid farewell to Hank, and said he’d call when he needed to be picked up. Hank nodded acknowledgement, gave Erik a pointed look of warning (and was that a growl?) and got back into the van. 

Charles looked up at Erik, expression calm, revealing nothing. “Shall we?”

There was little complication when it came to getting Charles into the restaurant and at the table; in fact, once he was seated, Erik realized he’d almost forgotten about the chair, but he sensed Charles wouldn’t appreciate that. It was part of his life now, after all. Really, Erik’s mind was occupied enough with seeing Charles again at all, period.

He looked up from the menu, which he’d been reading without truly comprehending it, and found Charles regarding him. His heart lurched and Erik couldn’t break the gaze. He suddenly missed the touch of Charles’ mind keenly -- years ago, a look like that, albeit a somewhat softer, gentler one, would have been accompanied by a caress from Charles’ mind, affectionate and warm. It had hurt more than he’d expected to sever that and to go without it for the past ten years. Blinking, he looked down again as the server approached to take their drink orders.

They still didn’t say anything until their wine glasses were set down, and Erik thought he couldn’t bear it any longer until Charles, after a drink, said quietly, “Why are you here?”

“I have a new position, I was moved out here.”

“Ah.” It was difficult to tell what that reaction meant. Charles was reading his menu.

“Charles,” Erik said suddenly, low and urgent, “please. Speak to me. I can’t stand it any longer.”

Charles looked up at him, a wry smile slowly spreading across his face, his bright blue eyes glinting in the low light. “Ten years was your limit, eh?”

Erik choked out a laugh. “If I thought it would have hurt you this much, Charles, I’d never have left.”

“Why did you?” Charles asked, and swallowed.

“I had personal issues to resolve, I didn’t want to involve you. You’d have only gotten hurt.”

Charles laughed, and looked around the restaurant in seeming disbelief. He sniffed, looking back toward Erik, blinking away sudden tears. Erik felt another lurch. “Erik, I did get hurt. You broke up with me out of the blue and then vanished. Do you understand how devastating that was to me? How could you not have realized? I loved you, Erik.”

Erik took a shaky breath, and blurted, “It was for the best, you’d have gotten tangled up and been in danger--”

“You don’t know that. I could have helped you.”

"I know. I... assumed you wouldn't want to." Charles could have done any number of things to help him, but Erik had never actually asked him. He hadn’t been with Charles in his time of need, either. All because Erik had wanted to keep everything to himself. 

"You never gave me the option."

Erik swallowed hard, blinking rapidly as he looked down at his menu. “I’m sorry, Charles,” he said again, barely trusting his own voice. He waited, dreading a condemnation, a rejection.

Charles reached to touch his hand, and Erik looked up. Charles was smiling at him, soft, a smile more like the ones he’d gotten so used to, years ago. “I don’t want to stay angry with you,” he said, stroking his thumb over Erik’s hand. “I truly don’t, my friend.” 

“I felt so alone without you,” Erik confessed. “Without you in my mind.”

 _You’re not alone_ , he heard then, that long-missed but still familiar voice in his mind, warm and intimate. Erik bowed his head, overwhelmed, unable to bear meeting those blue eyes while hearing Charles inside his head at the same time. _You never needed to be alone. You only had to come back._

“I’m back now,” Erik said, venturing to look up again. 

“You are,” Charles said. With his free hand, he raised his glass, his other hand still touching Erik’s. “To your being back.” He looked almost mischievous, as Erik raised his glass and they toasted. 

Charles took a drink, and then said in a low and rather suggestive voice -- yes, definitely mischievous now -- “You have the rest of our lives to make it up to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this on a whim after work today -- why not write this instead of my existing WIP? ;)  
> Thanks to Paige for reading this over on short notice!


End file.
